Stubble
by Abel Quartz
Summary: Steven and Connie are hanging out one afternoon, when Doctor Maheswaran is called out of the house. Alone, they have a frank conversation about life and bodies, about growth and change, and about each other.


**(DISCLAIMER: This story contains distinct and explicit descriptions of sexual acts between two characters who, although of a conscious and mature mindset, are legally underage. This story is written, not to exploit this fact, but to demonstrate a healthy example of a relationship. My hope is not to instruct, but to validate the fact of the matter that young people have thoughts of this nature, and to show a loving example of these thoughts manifest.)**

* * *

"Interesting."

Steven put the razor back on the side of the bathtub where he had found it, and quietly pulled the shower curtain back. He had thought that Connie was shaving, but that had been conjecture, overthinking, intrusive inquisition that he knew was too rude to really talk about. And he knew that it couldn't me Dr. Maheswaran's, because they had their own bathroom, and that would have been a little too weird to inspect. The fact that he was investigating at all was, he knew, pretty creepy.

The boy turned to the sink, turning on the cold water and splashing his burning face. When he made eye contact with his reflection, he had to blink several times to get that dumb, shameful look off of his mug.

Semblances of stubble ruined the look somewhat. Steven rubbed his thumb along his upper lip. The silver-black fuzz underneath came back no matter how much he shaved, but at least the little bumps under his skin didn't show up where he had shaved. The teen took a moment to think on the feminine, pink-swirled shaving razor he had just put down, wondering if it would be better for his skin – which, thankfully, wasn't really in that bad a place to begin.

As soon as he opened the bathroom door, Steven jumped at Dr. Maheswaran striding past him. She was jamming a stethoscope in her bag with one hand and texting furiously with the other.

"Steven!" she said, still looking at her phone. "I'm being called in for an emergency delivery. It shouldn't be more than a few hours, but I'll call the house if things end up busy. Doug will be home by dinner, and with any hope I should be joining you all."

She paused at the end of the hall, looking back.

"You _are_ staying for dinner," she said.

With a nod, she was off before Steven could respond. Business called, then. He looked down and pulled his shirt back down over his belly, red in the face. True, he stayed to eat with them nine times out of ten, but it was embarrassing to just be called out on it like that. The teen had to wonder, then, if Priyanka's final remark was a command or merely an observation.

Either way, he had been sated in his discovery. His fingers ran through his curls as he opened the door to Connie's room.

She was still there like how she had been when he walked out. The girl on the bed barely acknowledged him as she pored over the pages of the hefty textbook, an open three-ring binder on her pillow with half-finished notes covering the pages. In the margins, Steven noticed, were doodles of Rose's Sword, and caricatures of her classmates.

"Trigonometry was invented for the sole purpose of killing us all slowly," she stated, shutting the book as Steven sat down on the bed, back against the wall. "Soon, we'll see triangles fill the sky, sine waves boring into our brains, and then you can't say I didn't tell you so."

"You got me." He smirked, and put his hands up mockingly.

Connie put her school supplies together, stacking pages and paper before unceremoniously tossing the whole affair onto her rug. She uncrossed her legs, and Steven could see where the rolled-up cuff of her jeans made an imprint in her hairless skin. So she had been shaving. When she stretched her arms over her head, the boy tried not to stare at her exposed abdominal muscles, or the outline of the bra under her navy t-shirt. Over her chest, the fabric was swirled with an albino jellyfish, stretching from her shoulder to her ribs.

"Your mom, uh, she told you?"

Connie nodded. "Yep. We're going to have to fend for ourselves."

"And you're preparing with trig homework."

"Not even homework," she sighed. "It's July already, Steven. I really need to get myself acquainted before the school year starts. Do you know how many things we have to buy for this math class? It's like we're fighting a possessed cartographer, and we have to throw protractors at him until…uh…"

"Until he falls off the map!"

She snorted at the dumb pun, pushing herself down the bed until her head rested on the pillows and her legs sprawled out into Steven's lap. He couldn't help but raise his hand to her sole and press into the callused grooves, pushing deeply. Connie curled her toes until they cracked. The silence drifted over them like sea foam on dried driftwood.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Steven rubbed his thumb from the ball to her heel.

"I'm good. You know I'm good."

"I mean your body, Steven."

Even though Connie had every right to be concerned, Steven still huffed begrudgingly. Growing up was a slow process, and he almost missed the morning at the barn, the single black hair on his chin. Here he was now, almost a full inch taller than the young woman who had stood above him before. Everything felt weird, weirder than how he thought it would be. The contraband anatomy books that Connie lent him from her mother's study didn't help much, even with the illustrations and their unsubtle explanations of exactly what should be happening, exactly where, exactly when.

"It's as good as it can be, you know? It sucks." He rolled his neck from side to side. "But I've got it under control, and I haven't regressed at all since we started this."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Seriously!" Steven said. "It helps that your folks let me come over more. It's, like, a normal human life, normal human family, and normal human development. I think that my body is kind of thankful that I started to get a little older, because that's what the human side was always s'posed to do. I have no clue how Gem physiology works. It probably just interferes."

"I mean, wasn't that what it was doing before? It made it so that you stayed the same…physical age for a while, then zoom, forced you back to a baby, and then there was that whole thing when you turned into an old guy that you were telling me about?"

"Don't remind me."

She smirked at his grimace, but when they made eye contact, there was no question that their smiles softened. Connie could feel the boy's hands squeeze gently around her feet, a little too rough, a little too nervous. Lifting it out of his grasp, she pushed her toes underneath the edge of Steven's shirt, pushing against his belly until he giggled. The bottom of her heel pushed against his gem. She saw him turn pink in his cheeks at the touch.

Still, he couldn't have been stiffer, sitting there and pretending to relax. He kept glancing over, hoping that she wouldn't notice. Connie's fingers reached up as she leaned forwards, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him forwards towards her.

Steven resisted her grasp only as much as he was surprised to be tugged, but after he had fallen to lie down next to Connie, he moved forwards until their heads were both on her pillow, their bodies stretched towards the closed door.

"We're going to have to fend for ourselves," she repeated, pushing her face forwards to nuzzle against Steven's neck, kissing the skin where his pulse started to race.

Steven twisted his body and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Connie propped up her face on her elbow and stared down at him. Mere seconds were enough until he reached up and pressed one of his hands into his face, dragging his fingers over his newly stubborn features.

"Talk," Connie ordered.

"It's not like I don't want this. It's not like I don't want you," Steven murmured. "But I don't know what to do with this? These feelings? You know what I'm talking about."

"More than you know…"

He couldn't help but laugh. She was probably right.

"I can't go to the Gems about this sort of stuff, because, well, as far as I know they don't experience stuff quite like this, not naturally. Dad taught me all the other stuff, but not the really weird parts. Like – I know how it all works, I'm not dumb. And your mom's a doctor, but you're not gonna go to her for advice about –"

He gestured to the bed, to both of them, both of his hands making sigils and trails in the air. Steven's arms crossed over his chest as he rolled his shoulders, disguising his anxiety with a furrowed brow and tight lips.

"Steven?"

The boy looked up just as Connie brought her face down to him, answering all of his questions without a word. This time, her hand came down and her fingers ran through his long, unkempt curls, holding Steven as she took the lead. The kiss was gentle, but not without the force, the same force that she used to get him motivated, out of his funks. He could taste the lingering sweetness of the juice from the afternoon. His body shook as her tongue came to part his lips and push inside, just like in the movies. Picture-perfect, yes, that was the precision that Connie brought to his naivety, a demonstration of her needs and of his illegible desires.

She drew back for a moment. Steven licked his lips, and noticed in that moment that his hand had moved, his body rotated, his fingers teasing the space between her waistband and her bare skin. Connie noticed as well, and she sat up, wriggling back against the wall. Steven stared as she pulled up her t-shirt with the same kind of ease that he imagined she had when she disrobed post-training – simple, elegant, with the singular desire to bare her skin to the cool air.

He expected her bra to be more practical than not, but it was still so much like her, taken straight from his daydreams. Sporty and burgundy, the tight material pushed against her muscles as she shook her long hair out once more to let it fall naturally. Connie started to grab the straps, but Steven stayed her hand.

"Let me…" he mumbled, unable to look up and meet her smirk.

Steven's thick fingers pulled at the fabric, sliding the strap off of her shoulder as she pulled her arm through. There was no clasp – thank goodness – and so Connie just stretched the garment and tugged it over her shoulder with his assistance. She had done this many times before, but for Steven, it was like learning a whole other language.

Shirtless now, her physique mesmerized Steven, different as it was than how he had thought of it in the past. Connie was not burdened with her breasts, but they were, well, very much there. As he stared, Steven couldn't think of any descriptions that weren't either obvious or cheesy. Her taut torso moved as she shifted on the bed, leaning back and letting Steven look for as long as he needed. For what it was worth, Connie knew that Steven probably hadn't seen a woman in this context ever, not even online.

Steven rolled over to face Connie, on his knees as he sunk into the bed. Sometimes, it was hard for her to remember that he was big, bigger than her now – certainly taller, and stockier, growing into what had once been baby fat. Even so, he looked as timid as a puppy as he raised a hand, glancing up for permission.

"Of course," she laughed, but then, softer – "Steven, I'd never ask you to do anything if I didn't want you to. And you know I'd never do anything to you that you didn't want me to do. You know that, right?"

He nodded. Of course he knew.

Connie breathed in as five fingers stroked from her collarbone down to the curves below. She looked up to see Steven, his eyes closed, his mouth partly open, trying his best to relax as he felt the warm flesh underneath. The boy's thumb rubbed tenderly over the side of her breast, moving aside. To Connie's surprise, he moved forwards, his face coming forwards and his lips pressing in where his thumb had been, a gentle kiss with the little scratch of stubble.

A chill ran through her entire body, and Steven must have felt the shiver, because he drew back, his eyes wide, and his fingers curled back into a tentative fist.

"I'm sorry, I really don't know what I'm doing," he said with a nervous chuckle. "Tell me 'f I do anything weird, 'cause I really – I mean, I don't know. Sorry."

"You're doing fine."

"But what am I supposed to do?"

Connie paused, then pushed her tongue into the inside of her cheek in thought.

"Honestly, I don't know. It feels good – oh, for goodness' sake, don't blush – but if you're nervous, then maybe I should try something."

Steven rubbed at his cheeks self-consciously as Connie sat up to face him. She brought them together once more in another kiss, something to bring them back down to earth. The tension in the Gem's body was whisked away by the gentle touch. He reached up and held Connie's face in both hands, sighing as he tasted the tinge of sweat on her lips.

She drew back first, a smile on her face. Steven's hands slid down to her sides underneath her arms, the bareness of her body still foreign to him. The musculature paralleled his pressure, refusing to bend to his pressure after the thin layer of skin and fat. Before he knew it, he had reached Connie's abdomen, each of his thumbs tracing a side of the deep-V above the denim waistband.

The motions were just that, motions, and they made eye contact once more, deciding silently that although the thought made their hearts beat in unison, they were far from ready for anything even resembling that. Steven sat back, getting up on his knees and grabbing the bottom of his shirt. His own jeans did little to hide his body's state – not that Connie was going to complain about that view, or the one that came when he tossed his shirt to the end of the bed.

Steven's belly still stuck out over the edge of his waistband, but just like he had been his whole life, his barrel-thick body accepted and stuck with its shape. Above and below his gem, the figments of dark, curly hair trailed up to his chest. Dark peach fuzz covered him, but it was barely noticeable. His chest stuck out, relaxed only slightly with the removal of shirt. Even though he had been seen like this by Connie swimming, the situation still made him more nervous than not.

Without a moment's notice, he grabbed Connie and pulled her into a shirtless hug, forcing a squeak from her pipes as he squeezed. He felt every inch of the young woman's torso against his body. He knew that she could feel his heart racing underneath his skin. It only dipped minutely as she hugged back. He could feel the little shudder as her giggle rang in his ears, and he couldn't help but smile as they held each other.

He turned and fell onto the mattress on his back, holding Connie tightly as they came back down from their awkward high. As their bodies pressed up against each other, Connie felt the bump, the fabric pressing against her exactly as she had expected. This was more of an art than a science, but as it stood she knew she could still make guesses, learn and retain, train for future spars. It was a dorky line of thought, but there was much Connie wanted to learn; after all, this wasn't going to be the last time they tried something like this.

Sliding off Steven's body was inevitable, and they laughed together, deep chuckles and melodic giggling from one to the other. It was his hands that took her and rolled her onto her side, facing away from him.

"I feel a strange force in the Universe," she teased.

He replied with a hand around her body underneath her, covering her chest. Steven's finger found the edge, the little nub of flesh, and he rubbed it gently with his fingertips. The warmth soaked through Connie's body, but she didn't shudder until he leaned over and nudged her hair out of the way to expose the side of her neck.

Another kiss she could handle; the nibble was a different story. The coarse hairs across her skin made Connie wriggle from the sensory attack. His teeth closed over her flesh, sucking underneath his lips, dark skin pulled from the force of his mouth.

It was just the right kind of painful. Connie couldn't twist away, not now, no matter how much the automatic response was. Steven's right hand stroked reassuringly across her hips. She felt him grind against her as he multitasked, a slow rhythm to help his mind. It was not controlling, certainly not dominant – but it was the motions of a leader, exploring into unknown territory.

He paused as his hand explored lower and, to her surprise, dipped into the edge of her waistband. Steven released his grip for a second, his hot breath heavy behind her jaw.

"Connie…" he murmured, asking a question without words, the name lingering on his lips.

She already knew. In the throes of her heartbeat, she nodded, eyes closed, body in bliss. It was all she could do, but it was all she needed to do. Connie had always trusted Steven to know her on the battlefield; what else could his response be in the bedroom but that of the same trust?

Deftly, his fingers unsnapped the front of her jeans, the zipper whining as his hands pressed further. His mouth came back down against her neck, and Connie swore that Steven growled as he took her scruff in his mouth again. From kitten to lion, it seemed. She had always suspected this side, but it wasn't until now that she realized how much she loved it.

He drew back his fingers, and though Steven had never known the body quite like this, he knew the basics, what to do, what not to do. With the fly of Connie's jeans undone, his fingers pressed against her groin and slid down the skin until he pushed underneath the waistband of her underwear. He had seen her legs, but here, he felt the stubble and small bumps, and he knew that she had been shaving everything. He drew back his mouth again. Connie noticed.

"S-Steven?" she said, clearly worried.

"You didn't, uh, you didn't do this for me, did you?"

She didn't sigh, but she took a deep breath.

"Sort of," Connie mumbled. "I just…feel better. Like it looks better, to me. I feel – you know."

"You feel sexy."

"Well –"

His kiss stopped any further explanation, as he turned her head back towards him, twisting himself to kiss her right on the lips. His grip tightened on her body, his breath sharp, his hips tensing against her thighs. If she wanted it, so be it. What more needed to be said?

Steven pulled Connie towards him, shifting both their bodies on the bed to revitalize their complacent muscles. Their ankles and calves wrapped around each other as his fingers dived once more, pressed against muscle and skin and into the depths. The young man knew little, but he knew enough.

Even though Connie would have liked to say that she was surprised, the fact that she was close to consummation had been creeping up for some time. The thick fingers that pressed against her touched nerves she didn't know existed. She felt Steven's left hand slide up to hold her head, pulling back her chin as he bit down once more, harder than before, as firmly as he could.

The embers of heat that singed her body from the inside flew up in a flurry. Creaks of the mattress filled the room as Steven rocked his body against hers, forcing gasps from her lungs and gyrations of her own. Drops of god knows what stained her clothing from between Steven's fingers and smoothed his process. His reach extended and pulled up, covering every part of her body down there – a feat not difficult for hands as large as his, but effective regardless.

His teeth released suddenly, but his motions did not. She could feel Steven shudder as his growls turned to whimpers, his own body turning against him. That only made his efforts more frantic, and Connie couldn't hold herself back any longer.

Her hand came down to meet Steven's own as the sensitivity reached an unbearable peak. Both of them held still as Connie felt the contractions, her body rolling underneath her partner's grip. A wave rushed from within, and she couldn't help but stifle the cry that came along with it, an involuntary twist of her nerves that made her legs curl around Steven's legs, her abs tightening up as the peak crashed like a cymbal. The remnants of her shuddering dwindled slowly, and even though it hurt, she held Steven down there, forcing him to keep still.

"C-Connie!"

At first, she didn't realize how wrapped up she had been, too much so to help Steven, but the gyrations were doing him good as well. He didn't dare move his right hand as it rested against her, but he pressed the side of his face against Connie's neck and hugged her as tightly as he could. His body shook violently, and he pressure of his body against her backside became focused.

The wetness that followed surprised Connie, even though it shouldn't have. Steven's anguished whining almost seemed to come from a place of pain, but she knew the intensity, and she held on to Steven as he came in his jeans, trembling against her. The tightness of his clothing must have been unbearable, but it was too late for that now. The sweaty, nervous teenager behind her finally stopped, breathing heavily against her neck.

"I love you," he whispered, so suddenly into her ear, "so, so much."

It wasn't the first time he had said so. Connie knew it wasn't going to be the last.

"I love you, too, Steven."

It was all she could say, but it was enough for both of them. After all, both of them meant it.

Steven lifted his hand from Connie's groin, pulling away and back to draw himself away from her body, acutely aware of the sensitivity. His pleasure was dulled by his jeans, but as he rolled back, both turned and grimaced at his aftermath. The awkward stain had soaked through and spread all over his lap, and there was a film of whiteness that came through the denim itself. A thin string even connected from the apex to the underside of Connie's hips.

"You brought a change of clothes?" Connie asked, giving him a worried grin.

He nodded. "Do you?"

Connie rubbed her hand through his hair with a sigh.

"I live here. Remember?"

Steven gave a faux-slap to his forehead as both of them snuggled in the afterglow. The smile faded from his forehead, and his eyes widened as he stared at the ceiling.

"Your parents are going to murder me," he whispered to himself. "The Gems are going to double murder me. Dad's going – actually, he's probably going to be fine."

Connie raised an eyebrow. "You're going to tell them?"

Steven opened his mouth, then closed it again as he realized what he was thinking, shaking his head and wrinkling his nose.

"It's weird," he said at last. "I'm so used to them looking into every part of our lives, all of them, and now that it's just you and me it feels different. A whole new kind of relationship, and I don't know what to do with it, because… Connie, I've never had anything like this. You know that."

Connie sat up and stroked Steven's forehead. He glanced over, momentarily awestruck by the sun against her naked torso. If he could speak, he would have told her once more how beautiful she was.

"I do, but it's not like we didn't know this was coming. It's just part of growing up. Steven, do you want this? I know we're together, but do you want _this_?"

Steven's sad smile glowed brighter than any sun.

"I've never wanted anything more than you," he whispered. "All of you."

Connie paused and, before he could see the tears in her eyes, slid back down to kiss Steven, lips to lips, breath to breath. They could feel each other crying regardless of how much they tried to hide it.

Shirtless, stained, and sweaty, the two teens relaxed in a room that was theirs and theirs alone, at least for now. The future descended upon them, and the illusion of the Maheswaran house faded into a time where there was nothing but them together. The afternoon sun warmed the room through the cracked window. A stray beam landed on Steven's exposed stomach, and as he moved to hug Connie once more, for a single brief moment, the room lit up like a kaleidoscope in shades of brilliant, perfect pink.


End file.
